


Dirty Little Daydreams

by xXQueenofDragonsXx



Series: Carlydia One-shots [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Banter, Carl Grimes is a Professor, Crushes, Daydreaming, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Magic, One-Eyed Carl Grimes, Pining, Swearing, Teacher Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXQueenofDragonsXx/pseuds/xXQueenofDragonsXx
Summary: "Ahem."Lydia freezes.Then slowly, ever so slowly, she looks up.Professor Grimes is hovering above her, a single brow arched as he stares down at her. Lydia straightens up almost instantly, her eyes going wide as her cheeks stung with heat. "Professor," she greets, cursing herself when her voice comes out as a mere squeak.---Or the Carl/Lydia, Hogwarts-AU that no one asked for.
Relationships: Carl Grimes/Lydia
Series: Carlydia One-shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029588
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Dirty Little Daydreams

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote this randomly, idk why. I might add a second part to this eventually, but I might not. Either way, please enjoy this little one-shot I made!

Lydia Dixon is so fucking screwed. 

The frantic scratching of quills against parchment fills every nook and cranny of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom as students rushed to get their work done in time. There isn't a single second where someone isn't flipping through the pages of their textbooks or swearing under their breath as they get ink all over their parchment. It's silent but isn't at the same time, if that makes any sense at all. It would actually be quite calming if Lydia isn't as distracted as she is. 

At the front of the room sits a lone figure at a desk, flipping through a book of his own and making the occasional note as he reads. He combs his long fingers through his hair every few minutes, and his one blue eye is narrowed as he mumbles something under his breath. He flips to the next page of his book, the sound blending in with the chorus of other sounds enough so that it goes unnoticed to all but Lydia. 

She sighs.

She is so fucking screwed.

A student nearby coughs, and Lydia jumps, realizing she was staring, and quickly forces her attention back to the half-written essay sitting before her. She trails her fingers over the page that her DADA textbook is opened to -- something about Nonverbal spells and Wandless casting. She doesn't really remember the exact contents of it, but that's kind of a given, seeing as she spent half the class period just staring at her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Carl Grimes.

Now, one might be curious, is she actually lusting after her own professor? 

The answer is yes -- yes, she is. 

But it's not like she's the only one. Lydia had seen other girls doing the same. And honestly, can a person blame any of them? Not only was Professor Grimes _incredibly_ good looking (missing eye and all), but there was an air of mystery and danger surrounding him that just drew her attention in like nothing else could. And it certainly doesn't hurt that he was only a few years older than the sixth years are -- he's what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Lydia doesn't know the exact number, but she doesn't really care.

Lydia doesn't think she's ever been this captivated with a professor before. Most of her professors are much older than the students are. And while some of them, like their flying instructor Negan (who half of her classmates drool over), are good looking, none of them had really caught her attention in _that_ way until Carl Fucking Grimes appeared at the Welcoming Feast this year. 

She sighs again.

Before she can stop herself, her eyes move back up to her professor.

His hair is a little below shoulder length, and it looks so shiny and sleek. Lydia wonders what Professor Grimes uses to make it look so good -- does he use a certain charm or spell? Does he use shampoo and other muggle cleaning products? Or is it both? No matter what he uses, it looks gorgeous, and Lydia can't help but yearn to run her fingers through it to see if it's as soft as it appears. She hopes it is.

Suddenly, Professor Grimes puts his quill down, a look of irritation crossing over his gorgeous face. He reaches up, and Lydia's eyes follow the perfect view she now has of his sun-kissed skin as he pulls his hair into a messy bun. She feels her mouth dry up completely. Oh fuck, if he looked good before, then he's hot as hell now. _How does he look so good with every hairstyle I see him in?_ Whenever Lydia tries to do something like that, she always ends up looking like a half-drowned dog.

And yet, Professor Grimes can manage to look good without even _trying._

Lydia sighs for what must be the tenth time this class before glancing down at the long roll of parchment lying before her. She dips her quill into her ink bottle, tucking back a strand of blonde hair as she tries to think of something to write. Before she can stop herself, she finds her gaze drifting back up to Professor Grimes.

_Drip..._

She watches as he tilts his head to the side, nibbling on the end of his quill as he stares at whatever he may be writing. Maybe something about dueling? She had seen him duel, and holy hell, if he's an expert at that, then it makes her face red just thinking about what other things he might be good at. She wonders how soft his lips might be, and then she gnaws at her lower lip, wondering how he would use his mouth on... _ahem._.. other things. 

_Drip..._

Lydia quickly moves her quill away from her essay and glares down at the two small droplets of ink that had splattered onto her parchment, already beginning to stain. She gets rid of them with a discreet flick of her wand and goes back to her staring. 

Two minutes pass when she feels a paper hit the back of her head.

Lydia turns around, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her friend, Henry, is staring at her with a look of amusement in his eyes. He motions toward the crumpled up paper he had thrown, which had dropped onto the ground beside Lydia's desk. She glares at him but reaches down, picking up the crumpled paper and unfolding it slowly. Written in dark blue ink is: **are you going to finish your essay at all, or are you just going to keep staring at him till class ends?**

Lydia stares at the paper for a few moments. Then, she grabs her own quill, quickly scribbling down her response: **fuck off, you prat.**

She then reaches back, silently placing it back onto his desk.

A few seconds later, she feels the paper hit the back of her head again. Lydia bites back an annoyed sigh and picks it up from where it had, once again, fallen on the ground. She opens it: **you're going to fail the class at this rate. Do you even know what we're supposed to be writing about?**

Lydia, against her better judgment, writes her response: **Wandless casting and Nonverbal spells. Now stop writing to me, you're going to get us into trouble.**

She throws it back, not bothering to smother a grin when she hears it hit Henry in the head. Lydia turns her attention back to the desk where he sits at and-

He isn't there.

"Ahem."

Lydia freezes.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, she looks up. 

Professor Grimes is hovering above her, a single brow arched as he stares down at her. Lydia straightens up almost instantly, her eyes going wide as her cheeks stung with heat. "Professor," she greets, cursing herself when her voice comes out as a mere squeak. 

"Ms. Dixon," he returns, his lips quirking up into an amused smile, "is there any reason I just saw you throw that paper at Mr. Miller?"

She hears Henry smother a giggle from behind her. _That piece of shit..._

"N-no, sir!" Lydia stammers. She ducks her head, praying that the long blonde locks will hide the redness of her face. 

"Oh?" She can hear the amusement in his voice clear as day. "Well, I'm afraid I have to take two points from Slytherin. And detention would be fitting too, don't you think?"

Lydia freezes again.

_God fucking dammit._

"Yes, sir," she replies, trying to ignore the stares of her classmates.

"Glad to see we're on the same page," he says, tapping his fingers against her desk -- she can't help but get the mental image of his fingers in an... entirely different place, "I expect you to be here on Saturday, seven a.m."

"But that's a Hogsmeade weekend!" She protests, her eyes wide with horror.

Professor Grimes arches a brow. "Is there a problem with that?"

Lydia opens her mouth to protest again, but then, she thinks better of it. "No, sir." She says instead.

"Good," he says, turning away.

As soon as his back is turned, Lydia whips her head around to glare at Henry. _Traitor,_ she mouths to him.

The fucker just smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr [xxqueenofdragonsxx](https://xxqueenofdragonsxx.tumblr.com/) if you'd like! I'm always willing to chat :D


End file.
